


The Broken Hearts Club

by daisyiii



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Happy Quinn - Freeform, It's kind of cute tho, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of miscarriage, OC, Post 2x24, Tequila, Toby Curtis - Freeform, relationship, tobyxoc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 16:03:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6711787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisyiii/pseuds/daisyiii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His tequila had run out and all of his friends had disappeared. He thought he’d be fine – he was a world renowned shrink after all – but he kept hearing those five words over and over again. The words that picked him up and crushed him into tiny, recognisable pieces of dust. </p>
<p>She was the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Broken Hearts Club

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me in the middle of studying and when I tried to tell it I had a week of exams to study for, it laughed. Enjoy!

She was a vivid redhead, with a pale complexion and a broken heart like him. She smelled like cheap liquor and loss, a smell he knew he would be fond of tonight. Cabe said to not make it a habit, but he didn't know how to stop himself. 

His tequila had run out and all of his friends had disappeared. Walter had rushed out the door to proclaim his love to Paige, Sly had gone home with Ralph, Cabe had disappeared to god knows where and Hap... He thought he’d be fine – _he was a world renowned shrink after all_ – but he kept hearing those five words over and over again. The words that picked him up and crushed him into tiny, recognisable pieces of dust. He didn't know who he was any more.

She was the same.

“Are you here to join the broken hearts club, too?” she asked, looking at him from the corner of her light blue eyes.

“I guess so,” he replied, “I’ve got nothing else to do except wallow in my own pain and self hatred.”

She laughed. “You’re going to need more tequila for that.”

They spent the night talking. They told each other the dark secrets that lurked under their almost innocent faces, the plans that failed and the reason they needed to numb their pain tonight. They whispered stories of failed loves and sad childhoods as the bar got quieter and quieter. Toby’s hand settled on the small of her back, his eyes on hers.

Her boyfriend had left her. He’d left straight after they’d lost their unborn kid. She told Toby about how she felt numb, but somewhere, somehow, in the back of her mind, she was relieved. The relationship wasn't going to last much longer, she knew he wasn't going to stay, but she wanted to have a family. Toby didn't analyse her as he rubbed soothing circles onto her lower back.

He told her about his day and she didn't walk out on him. She listened as he recounted his kidnapping and how he thought he was going to die. She didn't lie when he asked her if she thought he was an idiot for asking for her hand in marriage (“You loved her. You’re not stupid”). He left his salty tears fall onto the grimy bar as he told her stories of better times.

He never once mentioned _her_ name.

At 4am the barman threw them out and closed up. Toby gave her his jacket and they drunkenly made their way through the streets, trying to find themselves in a dark mist of booze and pain. The street lights cast their shadows against derelict buildings and closed signs on store fronts. It casts an image of her fiery red curls and his hat. She didn't call his stupid hat. She liked it.

He fell into bed with her, the bed that he had shared with the woman who had broken his heart. There were no thoughts of stopping, the only thing running through his mind was the girl who kissed his tears away when he accidentally said her name. She held him close and let her own tears fall. He wiped them away with a careful thumb. She thanked him, because she’d been alone and vulnerable for what seemed like eternity, but now she had him, even if it was only for a single night.

Neither of them knew if it was the right thing to do, but they did it anyway. Her soft red lips whispered sweet nothings into his ear while his mouth left marks on her pale skin. She said his name with the gentleness of a mother talking to her child. It was soft and sweet.

 

He woke up the next morning with her wrapped in his arms. Her make-up was gone, her fiery red hair a mess, but still, but she was pretty. She was almost like a doll.

But she wasn’t–

He pushed the thought to the back of his mind and watched her as she woke up.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“For what?” 

“For letting this happen when we’re both so broken,” she replied.

“We were better broken together than apart.”

She smiled.

They made breakfast together while telling pointless stories about life and all its mysteries. They talked about the stars, the moon and everything they could think of. They talked about what they had learned about each other. She blushed when he said her hair matched her fiery personality and how he liked it. He returned the gesture when she said he liked how smart he was, mostly because he was funny too.

He dropped her off at midday, letting her choose the songs of their journey to the other side of town. They both sang along to crappy pop music, pretending not to know the words at first, but then they gave up and realized they didn't care. They had a passionate debate on how music was better years ago (she liked the eighties, he liked the nineties) while the soft vocals of David Bowie played in the background.

“This is going to sound completely crazy, but can I see you again?” he asked as his car came to a stop.

“Being broken together sounds better than being alone,” she replied with a small smile playing on her delicate lips. “But for coffee this time. My head still hurts from all that tequila."

“Deal. I’ll call you. Just make sure you make my call alert something from the nineties!”

She laughed. “Oh alright, but it can be our secret. I can’t lose my street cred, can I?”

It was quiet for a moment, the only sound being the cars that passed them by. It wasn't awkward but perhaps a bit sad. Maybe they wouldn't see each other again. Maybe it was only for one night, a small fling to make them both feel better.

“Thank you," he whispered. "For making me feel like I wasn't alone."


End file.
